


The Right Kind of Chaos

by ofnopesandwhyatts



Series: The Blessed Timeline Universe [1]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Additional DiNozzo children, F/M, Father's Day, I'm so fuckin late, I've dissapointed God with that last tag, Like a bunch of them, Mother's Day, Sorry y'all I don't have the attention span, less late but not great, sorry god, tasteful cunnilingus, vignettes of a more interesting story, yooooo fuck present tense my dudes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 10:16:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19828060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofnopesandwhyatts/pseuds/ofnopesandwhyatts
Summary: So, there is a larger story to this, that I hope I will write, but these are one-shots from this universe, canon from "Daughters." Tony and Ziva are parents to a small army of seven children and will probably be happy in the majority of these one-shots.





	1. Mother's Day

Her breath slows as he lazily makes his way out from underneath the covers to kiss her. It’s soft and instinctual, and she smiles against his lips.

“I love waking up like this.” She chuckles, smoothing his hair from where she had tugged at it only moments before.

“And I love-“ He punctuates with a playful peck. “-waking you up.”

“I thought I was the one that gets breakfast in bed, yes?” Her eyes scan his body, and she knows exactly what she’s doing when she bites her lips and meets his eyes, her own darkening. 

She’s kissing along the waistband of his sweatpants when a loud crash reminds him what day it is.

“Shit!” He stands up abruptly, and when she rises to join him, he guides her back onto the pillows and softly kisses her. 

“Haha oh no no no, Mother’s Day means I handle the disasters.”

“The children?” 

“Very funny.” He heads to the bedroom door and winks. “You know, I think you’ll have to settle for a different kind of sausage.”

***

Tony doesn’t know what he expects when he enters the kitchen, but he certainly doesn’t expect the sheer magnitude of the mess. Every one of his children is covered in pancake batter, none more so than Antionette. Her face is entirely covered, and it is only by process of elimination that Tony recognizes the pancake monster, standing on the patio, awaiting the cruel sting of the hose Tali has trained on her.

“Don’t you dare.”

“Abba, she’s absolutely filthy!” She gestures wildly toward the seven-year-old, and Tony cannot stifle the chuckle that comes when Antionette passionately nods.

He goes outside and picks up his daughter, cringing at the batter that runs down his shirt.

“What the hell happened? You told me you could supervise!”

Tali grunts in annoyance, and he turns around at the contrite “Sorry!” from behind him.

Kat is desperately standing in between Lizzie and Rivka, whose hands are suspiciously covered with batter.

The twins are notorious for food fights, he doesn’t need an explanation there.

“You’re relieved of your duties, Sergeant Kat. Go get cleaned up.” His eyes turn to the masterminds of DiNozzo mischief. “And you two.. Get cleaned up, and if I see batter flying-“

“Grounded for life plus ten years?” Elizabeth has a twinkle in her eyes that signals that she is not even close to sorry. It’s a look he’s well familiar with, her shit-eating grin a dead ringer for his own.

“Fifteen.” He nods towards the stairs and stifles the chuckle rising from his belly.

The twins scurry off to their bathroom and he groans at the sound of them pushing each other out of the way to wash their hands.

When he turns back around, Tali is gone. And he knows why. 

“Miss Annie, do you know where David and Olivia are?”

Annie points to the living room and he is only crossing the threshold of the room when he hears Tali’s muffled scream. She’s lying face down on the couch, head in her hands. The reason why is clear.

David and Olivia are sharing a lovely meal with Bogart and Gable, the family dogs, straight out of the bowl of batter.

He kind of wants to cry. He has no intention of asking Ziva’s help here, but the entire first floor of his house is covered in sticky pancake batter. 

“Out! Everyone out to the yard!” He hollers, and Tali dramatically rolls onto the floor.

“Please. Just let me die here.”

“If you die, Tali,” he winks, “Who is going to hose off your siblings?”

Her eyes light up. “Abba. Antionette turned the mixer onto the highest setting. Double Trouble took care of the back of my head. And these,” she points to her littlest siblings with a warning glance, “have ensured that the dogs will be throwing up all day.”

She looks him in the eyes and deviously plays with her hands. “Permission to exact revenge, sir?”

He ruffles her goopy hair and kisses her forehead. “Granted. I’m going to grab some bagels for Plan B, just make sure I still have the same number of children when I come back.”

“What’s the fun in that?”

Tony laughs. He loves each of his children, maybe less so today, but Tali has never lost her special ability to cheer him up. He doesn’t know if she’s just an angel, albeit a feisty one, or if she was just there when he thought he’d lost everything, but he’ll always love her for it. He’s already losing his mind about graduation in three weeks. “Have I ever told you that you’re just like your mother?”

Tali snorts and heads toward the door to the backyard. “Only every day.”

“Give ‘em hell, kid.”

“Plan to.”

***

Kateryna steps out of the shower to an eerie quiet. It’s unsettling, but she supposes it means the house won’t be destroyed anymore. 

She stifles a sniffle as she walks into the kitchen. It is still a disaster zone. She knows that this day means less to her siblings than to her, but it is frustrating that it all went so wrong. At least there is the box in her pocket, untouched by pancake batter, and she approaches the master bedroom door hoping that it will be enough.

“Ziva?”

Ziva looks up from her book and smiles.

“I am sorry I do not have breakfast. There were-“ She cringes. “-delays.”

Ziva lets out a guffaw. “I figured. Do you need help?”

Kat looks shyly at the foot of the bed and Ziva gestures for her to sit.

“No, it is Mother’s Day.” Ziva is amused by Kat’s insistence on tradition but stifles a smile. “You should stay in bed.”

Ziva chuckles and pats the hand Kat has rested on the bed.

“I am a mother of seven, sweetie, perhaps that will be possible when Olivia is your age.”

Kat looks down and brings the box out of her pocket, and Ziva notices the tears in her eyes.

“I wanted to get you something.”

Ziva gasps when she opens the box. The beads are red and highly clustered, like those Ziva recalls in the storefronts in the Ukraine. Carved into the clay beads are intricate designs, and carved into the central bead is the Star of David, delicately painted in gold.

“Oh Kateryna. It is beautiful.” Ziva pulls her into a hug and runs her fingers over Kat’s damp hair when she hears the sniffles.

When they finally pull away, Kat is emboldened to say what has been building for the last six months with this family, her family.

“I love you, mom.” 

Ziva chokes back a sob at the acknowledgment of the now undeniable truth. Kat is her daughter, no matter the circumstances of their meeting, no matter the nine years spent in awful conditions. And her daughter loves her. 

The tears spill over as she hugs Kat once again. “I love you too.”

***

Olivia’s wail cuts through the walls of the house.

“What was that?!” Ziva bolts upright, knocking Kat slightly off balance. 

She opens the blinds on the backyard facing window, and her question is answered. She sees one absolutely filthy daughter, and five other kids, soaking wet. Her eyes turn to Kat, who is sheepish.

“I did not know this was happening, promise.”

Ziva chuckles and kisses Kat’s forehead. “Of course not. You are only damp.” Her eyes narrow. “Though perhaps you could lend some context?”

“Tali and I were making pancakes for your breakfast and the kids wanted to help. Tali warned me not to, but I tried to teach Annie how to make the batter, and she turned the mixer all the way up.”

Ziva laughs out loud at the mental picture.

“It covered her entire face and got me and Tali pretty good too. Lizzie and Rivka started throwing batter at each other, and I honestly have no idea what happened to David and Olivia.”

Ziva lets out an amused sigh. “I shudder to think of it.” Her eyes widen and the next sigh is exasperated. “Where is Tony?”

“Bagels, I think. We did have a Plan B.”

“I see. Well, let’s see if we can get everyone dried off before breakfast, hmm?”

***

Tali is doomed. All five of them are tugging the hose from her hands, and she knows she is about to meet her watery fate.

Then, the door mercifully opens and Ziva comes to the rescue. Tali is delighted to see the towels in Kat’s arms, and the kids immediately drop the hose when Ziva approaches. 

“Now kids, she was just getting you clean.”

Tali grins maniacally, missing the twinkle in her mother’s eye.

“That’s right.”

Ziva walks the hose over to the faucet, planning her attack. When she reaches her destination, she aims the hose right at Tali, and chases her down, hosing off all the pancake batter.

“You forgot I’m a quick draw!” Ziva chases Tali into a corner and her daughter resigns to the unpleasant shower.

“You’re a traitor.”

“Bup bup bup, it’s Mother’s Day, remember? I have immunity from all rules and regulations.”

Tali softens her face and smooths down her hair, only an evil twinkle in her eye betraying her as anything but an angel. “You know, Ima, I’m really sorry. It’s Mother’s Day,” Tali beams, and her smile does give her mother some advanced warning, “you could really use a hug!” Tali shrieks as she runs to tackle her mother.

Ziva does sprint faster than Tali, but she should have guessed that Lizzie and Rivka would jump at the opportunity to get their mother wet, and they blindside her from each direction as she runs away.

“Group Hug!” Tali calls her siblings to reinforce the torture, and Ziva is sufficiently soaked within seconds. 

Kat calls out from the porch, towels in hand, “Red alert! Dad’s home!” But her warning is not fast enough. Tony is beside her on the porch in seconds, and he is annoyed.

“Shit, Ziva, I’m so sorry.”

“SHIT!” Olivia turns from her mother and proudly shouts the word, earning an exasperated groan from her father.

Before Tony can scold her though, Ziva is in hysterics. 

“Liv! You know you can’t say that!” Ziva tries to correct her youngest, but she doubts her words hold much weight through her tears of laughter.

Tony sighs and leans into the laughter for a moment, before he is back on task. “Alright, DiNozzos, it’s time to dry off. C’mon, single file!”

***

The rest of daylight is spent on laundry, bathing the dogs, mopping the kitchen, and shampooing the carpet. 

Not long after the cleanup begins, the three youngest are banished to their rooms, in fear that the mess would grow in its magnitude.

When it’s time for dinner, the usual DiNozzo tornadoes rip through the kitchen, but Ziva eventually sits down to the pizza an exasperated Tony ordered. 

His fingers have been massaging his temple the entire day, and it is touching how much he cares about the holiday. Her fingers lightly graze themselves over the nape of his neck and she smiles softly.

The soft touch brings him out of his stupor, and back to his plan.

“Okay everyone, we’re doing Thanksgiving rules here. One thing you love about mom, go!” Tony snaps and points to Olivia, signalling his signature move, youngest to oldest, so he goes last.

“She always compliments my drawings!”

Ziva smiles at her youngest. “That’s because they’re always so good, sweetie.”

Rivka snickers, but is immediately kicked in the shin by her twin sister. Though she rarely has it, Elizabeth loves to brag when she has the moral high ground.

David gets up from his seat to hug his mother, and she sits him in her lap. “I love when you help me with my homework, I always understand it better after.” She kisses the top of his head and squeezes him tight, keeping her only son on her lap.

“Antionette?” Tony prompts, mouth charmingly full of pizza.

“I love when you braid my hair and sing songs with me before school!”

“I love that too, baby.” Ziva’s eyes begin to well up.

Rivka stays quiet for a moment before speaking with tears in her eyes. “I like how you believed me about the dodgeball thing and stood up to the teacher.” Ziva nods knowingly at her daughter and recalls the despair in her daughter’s eyes when she learned that she and her sister would be in separate classes for the first time. Elizabeth is the fierce one, but Rivka tended to be shy, and recently, another girl had accused her of violence in gym class, citing her darker skin and foreign name as proof, and Ziva seethes with anger at remembering how the gym teacher automatically believed the young bully over her daughter.

Tony notices the thought diversion and reaches over to rub her shoulder.

“Of course baby, I’ll be momma bear anytime you need me.”

A tear slips down Rivka’s face and Tony gingerly wipes it away.

“I like how you always forgive me.” Elizabeth pipes up, more sincerity in her voice than anyone in the family is used to.

“Forgive you?”

Elizabeth sniffles. “Yeah, I mean I get in trouble a lot at school and I can be mean at home and I’m really sorry and you always-”

“Come here.” Ziva gently sets David down and gestures to Elizabeth, who is well and truly crying now. Elizabeth sits on her mother’s lap, something that the eleven year old would usually scoff at. “I know you’re sorry. And I’ll keep on forgiving you. But I think you are good much more often than you’re bad.” Ziva nods in response to Elizabeth’s questioning blink and kisses the top of her head.

Kat was silent for much of the dinner and tears ran down her face. No one at the table would dare tease her for that, though they would giggle at each other’s outbursts. Ziva had saved Kat’s life, and the older children knew the reverence in that. So when she wipes away her own tears, they all fall quiet for her.

“I’m learning about denotations and connotations in English class right now, and I have been thinking about the dictionary definition of mother, and its difference from what I know. The dictionary says it’s just a female parent. And I have one of those. But she is not my mother. My mother saved my life, she fed me my first real meal in over a decade, and she loved me enough to be my mother, even though she already had six kids.” She giggles a bit through her tears, and so does Ziva. “I love you, mom.”

Kat gets up from her seat to take Ziva in a crushing hug, only to pull away and brush herself off, as if she’s overstepped. Ziva shakes her head and pulls her back into the hug.

When the pizza is finished, they all clean up and migrate to the living room, enjoying a brief hiatus from the crying. But when all is said and done, Tali and Tony are on either side of her, and she prepares to be a mess.

“It’s weird. I know I’m not the only one of us,” Tali nods towards Kat, “but I remember meeting you. For the second time, of course, but I actually remember a day when I didn’t have a mom, and the next day having my Ima.” Ziva is shaking with barely contained sobs, and Tony squeezes her hand, tears already dropping on his shirt. “I knew who you were, and suddenly, everything was complete. I don’t remember being an unhappy kid, Abba is pretty cool, but I do remember watching all these princess movies with dad, and seeing that they all had dead moms, I felt like I was just like them, and I was mad because they got their marry the prince/melt the ice/save the island happy endings, and I thought it was my turn. I haven’t gotten any of those things yet, and I’m okay with the likelihood that I won’t, because I got the best happy ending. I’ve got a mom, and I can’t picture anything better.”

Tali curled into her mother’s side, and Ziva could feel all of her stress about her daughter graduating slip away, feeling as if she was that clingy and affectionate child again, that would never be the first to let go.

Tony coughs his way out of his own weeping and smiles. “Absolutely no more public speeches, we’re all dehydrated.” He leans over to give his wife a peck on the lips and he whispered in her ear. “ _ I can say ‘thank you’ in my own way”  _ She giggles as he sits back up. “Thank you for giving me seven beautiful children, I couldn’t be a happier man if I tried.”

Rivka lifts her glass of water, imitating the movies she’s grown up on. “A toast to Ima!”

Each of them lift a beverage, some of them only miming the action, as they repeat the phrase.

“To IMA!”

***

Tony ends the day as he began it, and kisses his wife in the way that gives her butterflies to this day. Heavy and sleepy and as if there is not a single other thing he could be doing. It always makes her think of his words when he got down on one knee in the stupid NCIS elevator and talked about growing old together. 

She likes the idea, but she’s not there yet, as she rolls on top of him. 

He groans in that frustrated way she knows means that he’s ready for sleep, but he’s absolutely not going to turn down the offer. 

“I love you for a lot of reasons, sweetcheeks, but this is a really good one.”


	2. Father's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place a few weeks after "Family First"
> 
> Tony opens a package and is able to smile for the first time in weeks.

It is still new to him.

The Parisian rain beats hard against his window, but the rooms inside are silent and empty. No pictures hang on the walls, the furniture is stocked to a bare minimum, and the television was only set up hours earlier. Moving boxes and packaging take up most of the space, and though he has accepted the change, he can’t be expected to have his brand-new life organized so quickly.

He has not slept in days, but he knows when morning arrives. The third Sunday in June.

Weeks ago, he had hardly given the holiday any thought. He ordered a luxury watch for Senior and called it at that. But now? Now he’s a father, rather, he has been for some time, and nothing is the same as it was, those weeks ago.

He turns over the yellow package in his hands as if it were fragile. The instructions sprawled across the package in familiar handwriting did not warn of fragility, but they did read DO NOT OPEN BEFORE JUNE 19, signaling to him that his heart might be what breaks. Not that it was particularly whole to begin with.

A tear slips from his cheek and he convinces himself to open it, in one swift rip, and he pulls out her letter.

_Tony,_

_It is hard to write a Father’s Day letter to you. I wish I were writing something disgustingly sweet on a card I grabbed at Walgreens. Truly. It would mean I was handing it to you myself, taking whatever moment alone with you I can get before Tali races in for cuddles. (I hope you have experienced those cuddles by now, they are spectacular.)_

_But I am not. I am trying to write an eloquent letter in a crowded Birmingham café. It is not going well, I have several terrible drafts shoved into my pockets that I will have to burn later._

_The sentiment is similar, though I suppose you do not feel quite a father yet. That is my fault, I know, but I need you to know what kind of father you have already been, even though you were not aware._

_I mentioned this in my previous letter, but before Tali was born, I felt unworthy of any happiness. My past has always and likely will always haunt me, but then I was convinced I was some sort of creature of misery and hate, with no other purpose. And then, Tali was born, and it all fell away. I realized who I was, and I only wish I had found the courage to tell you then. She saved me, but she could not have done that without a father. A father that passed along his beautiful eyes and charming smile. A father that brought laughter back into my life without even knowing._

_And now a single father. I am so sorry, I wish I could go back and live the last three years differently. Maybe we would not be separated at all, or maybe we would, but you would know her._

_It will come with time, I know, but I wish I had told you._

_I love you, I have not stopped, and every day I think about what we would be today if I had made different choices._

_I suppose that does not hurt less to read, but it is the truth, and I owe it to you._

_Love,_

_Z_

_P.S. One tie for today, one for the year you missed. I never forgot._

His tears join her dried ones on the lined and folded paper as he reads, and when he finishes, he pulls out the ties.

He laughs -his first genuine laugh in a while- at the ridiculous patterns. Tiled across the first are assorted smaller ties, and the second is adorned with the Disney Princesses, likely the one Tali assisted in choosing.

His laughter is interrupted by the waking coos of Tali in the next room, and he tries not to hear the intermittent cries for her Ima.

He quietly pads across the floor of the hallway, careful not to fully wake her, as it is only dawn, but her cries grow louder, now asking for Abba.

He obliges, peeking his head around her door with the widest grin he can muster.

“Good morning, sunshine. What do you think about eggs?”

She meets his smile and runs towards the kitchen, an invitation for him to chase her.

***

Hours later, the original Beauty and the Beast plays in front of the father and daughter, and her lids fall closed as she nestles into his side.

He is unsure of almost everything, he has no idea what he is doing here, but the gentle rise and fall of Tali’s chest on his is reassuring in a way he can’t place.

They’re going to be okay, and without a doubt, he loves them too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent a lot less effort on this one, honestly. You can probably tell.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I can be found at @loveladiesandmemes over on tumblr, where you can marvel at the mess.
> 
> If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times, fuck present tense.
> 
> Make friends with me in the comments!


End file.
